Triumvirate
by shamaho
Summary: A mysterious series of murders leads Clarice Starling to Florence five years after her last encounter with Hannibal Lecter, and though she does meet him there, he isn't going to give her any clues.
1. Chapter One

Triumvirate

A Hannibal fanfiction by Shamaho

March Thru April, 2005.

Disclaimer- I do not own the works of Thomas Harris, which includes characters, places, events or anything within his text. I do own everything else however, and beg that if anyone wants to use my characters, places events or antyhing contained herein, please give me credit, and if this should be posted anywhere, just let me know where it will be.

Notes: I'm horrible with timelines, so if I should mention a date out of order please correct me. Please excuse spelling and grammatical errors, I am not a dictionary. However if I misspell a name please point it out.

I am not well familiar with the landscapes and such of places in Italy, particularly Florence. Most of what I write is what I do know and most of it is imagination, if you have seen these places and wouldn't mind taking the time, please send me your best description to It would be greatly appreciated. This story is being written on a computer without internet and my net time is few and far between, so I won't have much time to do good research on this places, until I can get pictures, and actually go to Florence, I would appreciate it. Gratzi. (Sp?)

Summary- Florence Italy, 2006.

Dr. Lecter's peace is disrupted by the arrival of a certain familiar FBI agent, and by a trainee with a less familiar FBI agent, who hope to solve a new strange case. He of course holds all of the answers, but decides it's time for Clarice to use what he's taught her to lead her to her man, and also into his ever psychotic clutches. But little does he know, things aren't always as they seem, not all trainees need further developement of thoughts, and before Clarice has a chance to apprehend the murderer, someone has a few conditions of their own, and unless the good doctor complies, Clarice is in very mortal danger on her own.

Rating- T, for strong violence and some language, rating subject to change.

* * *

Chapter One- Caesar's Palace- see starred above line

* * *

Florence, April, 2006. The Boboli Gardens

The beautiful spring sun settled over the bright green plants all around, beams danced in the dew on vibrant flower petals and people flourished around the tiny common area in the center of the tourist attraction, lovers holding each other as they admired the Italian beauty, families all staring in awe, people from all over the world, France, Germany, Latvia, the languages all registered but did not mean anything to anyone. Most of the buzz was over the closed wing of plants and wildlife, crime scene tape over the entrance and someone standing guard to make sure no one trespassed, the past week had been eventful, a murder had been comitted, the first in about 5 years.

More buzz erupted from all corners as three weary Americans, stirred from only three hours of sleep in a hotel minutes away trudged over to the guard, flashed ID's to the guard, who grinned and asked. "F-uh-BI?"

The eldest, a woman, light red, mid back length hair nodded, put her ID back into her pocket. "Si, signor. Let us through?"

"Log in, check your weapon." He said, clearly having trouble speaking English. The woman nodded and motioned for the two others to do the same. She signed the paper after handing over her gun and ammunition. "Don't see the point in this, it's a crime scene, not a captive's cell." She knew why that phrase had sounded so familiar, that night, that finger . . . .

"Yes uh," he read her name off. "Agent Starling, but this is a very high security area, how do I know you wont turn around and shoot me?"

She bent over the paper and scribbled an Sp. by hers and the young man's names. "Sorry, the young one's the only agent, can we go now?" The heavy southern accent was beginning to show now that she was waking up and didn't sound as groggy, it was unlike her to be this tired, had to be the jetlag.

"Of course, Miss Starling." He moved aside, she turned to look at the other two sleepy bodies but felt her breath catch as she noticed how many people were watching them. "Jesus Christ."

The man, another special agent smiled grimly, nodded over to the pathway. "C'mon, Clarice, ignore them." She nodded, led them into the maze of azaleas and rose bushes. Everything seemed fine, beautiful until the rose bushes were now lined with begonias instead of azaleas, old, dried blood was splattered all over most of the bushes, large round brown spots where pools had once been in the grey cobblestone. White arches with streaks of life fluid and spatters here and there, countless to the human eye.

"Hot damn."

"Josh, can you take come pictures? I'm gonna snoop around, you have any questions, rookie?"

"Yeah," the young woman said, turning in a 360 circle. "What do we do with a bunch of bloody bushes?"

"Look."

"For what?"

"Anything. A fingernail, skin, any other body parts that were missed . . ."

"Ugh, I knew I should have been a secretary." She shivered, took a filer from Clarice and bent to the round, began scratching in between the cracks. Clarice moved through the bushes diligently, gloved hands shaking each branch, disappointed to only see flakes of dried blood falling, until something went 'clink'. She bent down and patted under the partivular rose bush until she found what she was looking for, a chain, she pulled it and it slowly slid out, clinking and making scratching sounds against the stones. The two others watched in surprise, on the chain was a heart shaped locket, carefully, Starling opened it up and inside was a phtograph of two men, on the opposite side the word 'Amore' was etched.

"Hey guys, think I found something."

"No shit, Starling, what's that say?"

"Amore, you know, love? The victims were homosexual's, approximately twenty six and twenty nine years old. This isn't the first time old C struck a couple in public, but the first time out of the US."

"You think it is Old Caesar, Clarice?"

"Pretty damned sure." She took a plastic bag from her pocket and dropped the chain in, they continued searching but found nothing, not that this wasn't good enough.

"Congratulations, Ellen, this is your first case." Clarice stated, holding the bag up for them to all admire, the sun was setting now, none of them felt safe here without their weapon, even though it was a crime scene, not a crime scene waiting to happen. There had been no pattern with places, this was the first time it had occurred outisde of the US.

They strolled out confidently, Checked out, got their weapons and got into the car they'd taken, went back to the hotel. From the bench across from the crime scene, a newspaper lowered just as the car drove away, and a familiar, smiling face envisioned the brilliat red hair, a nice change even though he had been fond of the deep brown, almost black natural shade. "Welcome home, Clarice."

* * *

An apartment, overlooking the Duomo cathedral.

* * *

Upon returning home Dr. Lecter took a relaxing bath, then after drying off and dressing in his evening attire, he sat at the ornate marble desk that dominated his study and lifted a quil and placed it to his paper, bought from the finest stationary shop in italy, in Rome, actually. His decision to greet Clarice had been carefully thought over, his decision also to not aid in the case, had been much esier, he had taught her much in the years, it was her chance to think on her own.

_Dearest Clarice,_

* * *

Two days later, a hotel in the upper part of Florence

* * *

"No mail for. . . . Oh, Uh, Special Agent Clarice M. Starling care of the Excelsior hotel, that would be you, I'm pretty sure?"

Surprised, but suspecting it was just something from the director, Clarice nodded and outstretched her hand for the envelope, the clerk handed it to her face down, not thinking anything of it, she thanked him and went up to her room, opened the door, tossed the letter aside gently and went right for the spa like bathroom, stipped of the negativity from today's meeting, as well as her soiled from sweat clothing, she sank into a hot, nerve settling bath, and let it loosen the tight spots in her neck, shoulders and back. After nearly falling asleep in the tub she got out, let the water down the drain and dressed in something casual, the rest of the day was free, hers for the taking, and while work sounded nearly disgusting, she decided to read the letter she had been given at the front desk. She stood from where she'd plopped down on the couch and went to the table near the door of the room, picked the letter up and sauntered back over, sat down, pulled her feet up under her and finally turned the letter over.

. . . . her heart nearly stopped as she gazed upon the familiar scrawl. . . .

She made one decision almost immediately, he had spared and even saved her life that night when Paul Krendler died, he hadn't wanted her dead in the first place, 'the world is more interesting with you in it', he had told her the night she'd been promoted and graduated from Quantico. And it was more interesting with him in it as well, she'd never denied her attraction to him from herself, and was pretty sure he could practically smell it on her. But it was their little secret.

She slowly slid her finger under the flap on the back and opened the letter tediously, her heart thumping like a wil drum in Africa, goosebumps nearly covered her flesh but they weren't there really, barely there, but somewhat there, she felt like a teenager getting her first Valentine from a boy. She carefully removed the folded piece of paper from the envelope, and set the envelope aside, with a deep breath, unfolded the lovely, sweet scented paper.

_Dearest Clarice,_

_It is a true pleasure to see you are around now when Florence is most beautiful, the spring. Did you really come to help train a new recruit? Or did a case in Italy sound too appetizing because you know who lies in wait here? I suppose it was inevitable that some day you would come, your curiosity always did get the better of you. But beyond that, how long do you plan to be in Florence? Will you stay after the case is solved and your covered with metals? Or will you force yourself bck to that dank office that you know you'll have even if you save the day, I think by now you realize that your love is one sided, not mutual, though maybe it is nice for one to love their work._

_I will not dwell on your job, after all, 'new case in a foreign country' is like a vacation for you, isn't it? I do hope the weather hasn't disappointed you, but as far as I know you and the comrades came right when the weather brightened, lucky you. You always seem to brighten the world I live in. Is this too bold to say? I certainly hope not, because I know in your dreams I;ve said even more bold words a million times, and you have done the same in mine. But our dreams are not meant to be shared, or to be reenacted, that is why they only exist in our sleep my dear._

_Did it excite you to see that I have written? Or were you terrified? Never mind, I know fear excites something within you, you're very much like me, Clarice Starling. We are creatures of habit and animals of the night, the darkness soothes us, did it soothe your fear in that basement with Jame Gumb? Did it exhilerate you? I know killing in the dark always made me feel good, like I was God and nothing could stop me. And then the one time I try to kill in the light, poof, I get caught. Ironic isn't it?_

_This must seem very much like a pointless letter but for once, I am curious, only you have sparked that curiosity in me, could it be lust? Or even love, hate, understanding? I'm tired of giving answers Clarice, I want them and so does the FBI, I think it's time for you to get and give your own answers, if you wish to respond to me, drop your letter off at the library, leave it with Teresa, she'll get it to me, on the envelope, write Dr. Giusinne._

_I trust you will not turn me in, especially now._

_Ta ta_

_Hannibal Lecter. M.D._

Setting the paper down, much calmer but still quite nervous Clarice considered what he had said, he knew something, and he wanted her to find out on her own. He also, had hinted at exploring their relationship, and while this terrified her, it thrilled her, in the lowest way possible, he had explained her so well in only a few paragraphs, she knew she would respond, and knew that this would be the third biggest adventure in her life, and she was ready to take it in, full force.

Finding some paper of her own she set to writing back, slightly embarrassed by her own handwriting, she tried her best to write as neatly and error free as possible. She hated what he did to her, and loved it all at once.

_Dr. Lecter,_

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Well, that's the first chapter. Hope it's ok, please review! 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

All's You Would Need Is A Mirror

This chapter is half correspondances between Clarice and Dr. Lecter over the next week of the time period, the end is not. But in order to know where you are look for the break, that swtiches setting from Lecter's apartment to Clarice's hotel room.

* * *

_Dr. Lecter,_

_It pleases me to know you are all right, how's your hand? I must admit that I was very worried about you when you left, but I knew when I saw that boat, that you were okay, at least from the authorities. I think I owe you an apology for having held you up enough to make you want to cut it off, so I'm sorry, and hope you can forgive me, if you have not yet._

_My main objective in coming here is to solve this case, the trainee is here by random draw, I'm the only agent of my class that hasn't trained one yet so I brought Joshua Graham with me to help me do so. I did not know you would be here, I know you love Florence but how safe is it to return to a place you were once caught in? Maybe I was curious, I wanted to see what you loved so much about this place, and though I do realize it is beautiful and peaceful, I know I don't appreciate it as much as you do. Maybe you can help me with that. As for staying or not, I don't know, we'll have to see how much I like it here._

_It is very much a vacation, I don't often get to rest this much, I enjoy it immensely. No, it was not too bold to say, I consider it a compliment, just as when you said the world is more interesting with me in it. As for our dreams, that may be true, but aren't our dreams and the hope of living them what make life worth living?_

_I was fearful at first, but I remembered that night that I came to get you from Verger and I remembered being half unconscious and you were carrying me, and I never felt so safe as when I was in your arms. I don't mean to sound romantic by that, but it's true. Are we alike? I suppose you may say so but we're also very different, mainly in age but I never had the fine taste for arts as you but I do appreciate them and enjoy doing so. Also you are very elegant and I am very easy going. Darkness does tend to soothe me but sometimes, when something is wrong I hear the lambs, and I want nothing more than light when that happens, doctor, I don't know what to do to make them stop, victories, advancements it all helps but it doesn't STOP them, they always come back. I don't like to think about that time with Jame Gumb, but if you must know, it was the only time I was terrified in the dark because for once, it wasn't my darkness._

_I'm glad you wrote to me, and if you can trust me, I am not going to give you up. Quid pro quo, doctor. It seems to be the best way we communicate._

_Yes or no?_

_Clarice_

* * *

Intrigued, Hannibal Lecter lowered the letter and paused before taking out a new sheet of paper, and beginning it with a smile and nod. Yes, she was still the fiery young woman destined after the case, but also the shy, vulnerable child handcuffed to her father's pine box. Two reasons he admired her and was so fond over her.

_Clarice,_

_Well, well, well, that is rather SLIPPERY of you, agent Starling. Slippery as ever, yes, quid pro quo it is, though I must warn you, I won't take an 'I don't want to talk about it' or 'I don't have time' for an answer this time. You will be direct with me or we may as well not correspond at all. _

_My hand is fine, nearly, though I've lost some feeling to it. Well, how could it be surprising when I half jammed a meat cleaver through it, why on earth did you wait as long as you did to spit the key out? Perhaps it is partially my fault, I should have been more thorough in my 'goodbye'._

_Joshua Graham? Will Graham's boy? My, my, how time flies. It's safe because I wasn't really caught here, merely spotted, none of them are around to spot me anymore, most of them flew off to Venice and Naples in fear I might gut them too. Poor Signora Pazzi, she went mad when she saw her husband hanging there, has been locked up since. Ah, it is an honor for you to ask such of me, I would be delighted to show you why I love Florence. Meet me in the library Tuesday, next Tuesday, that is, at 2 'o' clock, be hasty now, I can't stand around forever with two other FBI agents (at least) in the vicinity. _

_If that is so, you make my life very much worth living, Clarice Starling. _

_I fear I shall discuss this next paragraph about your lambs with you in person. I do think I know why you still hear them._

_See you in three days._

_Kind Regards,_

_Hannibal Lecter. M.D._

* * *

With an unnerved gasp Clarice checked her watch, she had attended lunch with the director the previous day and dinner with several agents that same night, no time spared in between save but to change, she hadn't been able to read the letter then, and she was to meet the doctor this day. Cursing softly, as she had an hour, she scrambled to her closet, found something formal but comfortable and threw it on, as well as some shoes. She grabbed a jacket and her purse, checked to make sure she was armed and had her key card, then hurried out after letting Joshua know she was meeting someone and wasn't sure when she would be back.

She walked, which was why it took her a half hour to get there, ten minutes early, she stepped inside and began to let her eyes wander, arms crossed, eyes fallen to her feet. She gazed up as a woman approached her, and she recognized her as Teresa, the kind older woman that had been her key to corresponding with Lecter. She smiled and so did the kind lady. "Uh, Caroline Schneider? Dr. Giusinne asked me to inform you he is in the private board room, may I show you where?"

Amused that he had kept her initials in her fake name she nodded, felt slightly more comfortable. "Thank you Teresa, if you lead I will follow."

Teresa turned and walked across the lavish foyer area to the back where the rooms of books and computers began, turned right down a hallway, decorated with portraits, both impressionism and photography, of all the museum's caretakers. The final one, was a photo of Lecter, and it was just before the door, Teresa said goodbye and left, Clarice knocked and waited. "Yes, come in?"

The voice alone sent chills down her spine. She opened the door and did not miss the fleeting expression of amazement on his face, she fought back a blush, closed the door behind her and stood before him, arms crossed before her, bag dangling from her wrist. She felt shy, before him, shy because of the way they had parted, shy because of the way he looked at her, but mostly shy because he almost knew her better than she knew herself. Not almost, he DID.

His eyes followed her form, then rested on the thick red hair, tied delicately in a ponytail. She smiled at him softly, shrugged. "Hello, doctor Lecter."

He moved to her, smiling, took her bag and her jacket, hung them on the coat rack across the room. "Clarice, you look incredible." He moved back to her, lifted her hand, bent and kissed it, lifted his eyes back to her. "How long has it been?"

"Five years." She whispered shakily, encourgaed him to stand straight. "Five long years." She took the hand he had damaged, ran her finger along the hideous scar, which had maimed a once beautiful and sensual hand, she shivered, recalled that night in Memphis when he'd run his finger along hers. "Have you. . . ." She paused, looked up at him and realized she very well had his full attention. "That night in Memphis, why. . . . Why did you stall me so long and then tou-touch me the way you did only so I could wonder. . . . Think. . . ."

He titlted his head in an observative manner, lifted his good hand and brushed some hair from her cheek but did not move away his hand afterward, the back of it there while his fingers brushed up and down the flesh. "Why didn't I get you close enough sooner and kiss you sooner? Would that have been any more fair, to have you starve for my affection for ten years, rather than to wonder? Why is it you brought this all up, Clarice? What is it I have sparked in you?"

"I don't know, I was just wondering if you um, if ll this time it was just, to keep me away?"

The poor girl, she was drowning in her emotions and had no reason to have brought it up. He decided to let her off easily. "It was all every spur of the moment, but I am not and was not sexually attracted to you, you are very valuable and dear to me, as a . . . friend."

She nodded silently, slightly disappointed but glad it was off her chest. "Let's, um, let's sit down so we don't have any more, distractions."

He nodded, pulled out a chair for her and waited until she sat in it to push it back in. He then went to the sideboard, opened a bottle of wine and poured the gold liquid into two glasses, carefully set a glass before her and then sat with his own, clinked glasses with her from across the large table. "Cheers."

She nodded. "Cheers." And brought the glass to her lips for a drink, then set it down. She waited for him to speak, as she was not quite sure how to start the conversation.

"Clarice, you mentioned your lambs in the letter, and how you can't get them to stop, why do you think they won't?"

She leaned back slightly. "Well," she began, licked her lips carefully. " They always seem to stop temporarily when I accomplish something, but, I think they won't stop all the way because there's something permanent I have to do something. . . Important for my life but I just. . . God doctor, I have no idea. . . ."

"Good, stop there. After you were 18, you left the orphanage did you not?"

"Yes."

"Tell me about that."

"Well, my father had put together a trust, enough for me to attend UVa, I'd been tutored in the orphanage so I got a bus and went to fill out an application, they called me at my hotel less then a week later and I was enrolled. I graduated with hinors and went right to Quantico to train for my badge."

"When did you first meet Jack Crawford?"

"My first year there, he gave me an A- on a paper I wrote contradicting one of his own."

"You came to see me in your second year there, correct?"

"Yes."

"And that's it? No torrid love affairs, no little romances, boyfriends, lovers. . . ."

"Nothing so important to come to memory, no. It was all parties and stuff during my time at the orphanage that any of that happened, UVa, straightened me out and the academy put the finishing touches on a concrete fighter with no emotions towards work."

"So I noticed."

"Your turn, doctor. What do I need to find him?"

"Find who?"

"'Old Caesar'."

"Oh, now Clarice you know I said in my first letter that you were on your own with that."

"Yes but I want to know how, what to use."

"Questions, Clarice, ask yourself."

"What is his nature?"

"Yes."

"Why does he do it?"

"Yes."

"Is there a pattern?"

"Well, that might help. But I strongly urge you to interview people and read the casefile while asking yourself those questions. Now come on, ask me something _real good_." The imitated accent stung her nerves, as it always did but she ignored it, as usual.

"I. . . . What was it between you and I? Don't honestly try to make me believe . . ."

"Do you really want to know, Clarice? Do you want the monster to tell you?"

"Dr. Lecter . . ."

"I'd spent eight years in that cell without a kind woman companion, snotty policeowmen and that horrible nurse, you were the first female I felt I could trust and after listening to you all that tiem I grew to really care for you and I know you saw something within me that was what little soul I had left and you understood me, maybe not accepted but understood me. I worried for you, because I knew you and trying to impress your damned dead father could very well drive you to the point of suicide if you should fail. I vowed to do everything in my power to keep you safe from that, I felt a love for you that was far deeper than passion or a childhood romance, I loved every fiber of your being and I loved your courage and strength and I loved your weaknesss too, Clarice. I loved how hard you tried and how passionate you were, that's why I touched your hand that night, I knew it very well could be the last time I ever saw you again."

Stunned silent, and blushing madly, she lowered her eyes momentarily, bit her bottom lip and helplessly shrugged. "I'm sorry, doctor, I just. . . I hated thinking it was just to get inside my head."

"It wasn't, Clarice. It was to get inside your heart, which you'd left a stone wall around after your father's death."

She tried desperately to find the courage to speak, swallowed past her guilt and fear, but she honeslty wasn't sure what to tell him, or even what he wanted to hear. She was about to ask him what he wanted from her when gunshots sounded and bullets ripped through the door, she ducked, whipped her Colt out and carefully flung the door open, with a deep breath, ignoring Lecter's advice to stay down in there, she turned one way and when she saw it was clear, leaped back into the room, then did the same for the other side of the hall, a man stood, gun to Teresa's head, she had a gut wrenching feeling that it was her man. "Sir? My name is Clarice Starling, I'm from the American F.B.I., let her go, sir. . ."

"Not a chance, woman, she's so smart, you should see the brains she's got!" He pulled the hammer back and before he could pull the triger, she pulled hers and shot the gun right out of his hand, the bullet grazed Teresa's cheek, she'd known it would, but at least she was alive. He grabbed the gun and began running, she stepped out of her heels and was on his tail. People watched in amazement, some got in the way. "F.B.I., move!" She screamed. Everybody down!"

People cried out and leapt out of the way, but by the time she got out of the building, he was gone, out of sight. She cursed, turned and went back inside, hurried to the hallway where she'd left Teresa, who was holding her face sobbing. "Dr. . . . Giusinne, come out here, please, hurry." She called, bent and tried to calm the woman.

"You're ok, it's ok, it's just a little cut, shhhh, it's ok."

"A graze?" Lecter asked as he approached, bent on a knee.

"Well, it was that or her brains on the wall. Teresa, let him see it, move your hand."

Slowly the terrified librarian did so, and the doctor inspected it. "It isn't serious but she should be taken to the hospital anyway, to make sure it doesn't get infected. I'll take her, Caroline, you get on back now and file a report."

It stung slightly, because she knew he was trying to get rid of her because it had gotten awkward in the board room, she nodded softly, tried to hide the expression and went back to get her things, slipped back into her shoes, and walked back to the hotel.

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Hope it's ok, please review! 


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